


Worlds Apart

by Blue_Five



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Dean, Post Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Five/pseuds/Blue_Five
Summary: Three years ago, Dean Winchester fell in love.  He woke up alone.  He's made a life for himself and his son but one fateful morning all that changes.





	1. Chapter 1

A car accident is a very noisy affair, Dean Winchester decides.  It's not like the movies where things just sort of drag out but instead, it's an explosion of sound that seems to be everywhere at once.  This is Dean's observation at least while he's trying to gently pump his brakes and stop his slide on the icy highway just outside Sioux Falls.  He says some very unkind things about the pickup truck driver whose inability to adjust his speed to road conditions put him in this situation.  One minute Dean is cruising along on his way home and the next he's got a Dodge crunching the side of his Impala and sending him into the guardrail.  He manages to hold her steady but momentum spins him sideways across the lane right before he stops.  A tear slides down his faces as he murmurs a soft "I love you, baby boy" to his son before the tractor-trailer hits him broadside and everything goes dark.

* * *

" --ir?  Sir, can you hear me?"

_Of course I can hear you, jackass, you're shouting right in my ear!_

Dean wonders why it's so hard to open his eyes.  He tries to turn his head but it won't budge and he feels something around his neck ... a collar?  Is he collared?  What the fuck did he do last night?  How --

"Easy, big guy ... easy ... you're ok ... just take it easy ... "

Dean groans.  "Wha-ha'ned?  Whur'm -- can' moo' h'ad --"

"You were in a car accident, sir ... your jaw is broken and we've got a neck brace on you.  Just relax and we'll get you out of there, ok?"

Dean blinks slowly.  His left arm is pressed against him by the door which seems to be folded inward.  He realizes his body is kinked at an odd angle to accomodate the way the metal pushed into the cabin. Dean mentally thanks his stars that Baby has a bench seat with no center console or he'd probably be crushed.  As it is, his innards don't feel like they are where he left them last.  He tries to move and a scream rips out of Dean's throat without any warning.  Strong hands are suddenly there, gently holding his shoulders as he sobs.

"Whoa!  Buddy, don't  _do_ that!  You've got a fucking door frame halfway pushed into your side.  You keep moving and you'll leave your guts hanging on it."

Dean begins to shake.  His teeth chatter and a warm blanket settles over him.  "There we go ... easy does it ... you'll be ok ..."

"Oh  _fuck_ ... Cassy, you need to see this!"

The voice is softer because the speaker isn't right next to him anymore.  " _What?_ Can't you see -- oh my god -- is there -- do you see any --"

Dean tries to follow the conversation but nothing really makes sense right now.  He smells ... Alphas.  Wow, a  _lot_ of Alphas.  His brain slowly releases a memory and it drifts to the top.  The car accident ... the grille of the tractor-trailer growing larger and larger ... Dean whimpers.  

The deep voice Dean has been hearing is suddenly there again and he whines softly.  It's purely an instinctual response -- he's an Omega, he's hurt and there's an Alpha here.  He needs an Alpha.  Dean tries to straighten but he can't and the strong hands are again restraining him ever so gently.

"Easy, bud ... easy ... I'm right here.  I need you to calm down and help me a little," the voice shivers a bit and Dean frowns.  He pries his eyes open somehow and he's staring down at his mangled car and body again. The voice drops an octave and it's Dean's turn to shiver.  "I need you to tell me if you had a pup in the car with you ... we see a car seat but--"

Dean tries and fails to shake his head so he manages, "N-na ... na pu' ... pup ... hom ... F'ammy -- F'ammy wa'sh--pu' ..."

_Fuck, that barely made sense to me and I'm the one talking,_ Dean frets.

The voice, however, seems to have the ability to understand wounded victim gibberish because he exhales in relief.

"Clear, guys ... no other passenger in the vehicle besides the driver," the faceless Alpha says to whoever else is out there.  To Dean, he says, "Thank God, buddy."

"Ee'n--" Dean says uselessly.  If he could stand it, he'd roll his eyes at himself.  "I -- Ee'n --"

"Ee -- Dean?  Your name is Dean?"

Seriously, how does this guy do it?  Dean sighs.  "Y-y'sh -- Ee'n."

"I'm Castiel," the voice offers and Dean's brain freezes over.

"Ka-az?"

The Alpha chuckles.  "Cas will do fine.  That broken jaw of yours is going to be a nightmare for a while."

Dean now sees the strong hands moving to touch him, to check his pulse and keep him still.  He remembers those hands.  Remembers when they touched him three years ago with no intent of keeping him still.  He blinks.  It  _can't_ be.

The voice drowns under the raucous vibrations of the Jaws of Life.  The hydraulic rescue tool makes short work of his car door.  Dean tries to stifle the tears that threaten -- he loves his car and now she's scrap metal.  That's what's got him emotional.  The tears are  _not_ about the man helping to move him out of Baby's front seat and onto a gurney.  The man that let Dean wake up alone three years ago and never looked back.  No, Dean Winchester isn't crying over _that_ guy.  Again.  At least that's what Dean tells himself as he's carefully strapped in and he can now see the face that belongs to the voice.  He tells himself that the blue eyes looking straight at him don't resemble his son Jack's at all.  Nope, not a bit.    

"Ok, Dean, time for you to go to hospital and --"

Dean sees recognition for a split second before the blue eyes are gone.  Dean watches the fireman's coat disappear in a sea of uniforms - cop, fireman, paramedic - and through his watery, tear-filled vision, Dean reads 'NOVAK' in reflective letters across the back.  He passes out thinking blackly,  _Gee, wonder if he remembers me?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was heartened by the response to the first chapter so let's keep this going ...

Sam loves his family.  He really does.  He's not even related by blood to them but Sam knows in his soul that he was meant to be a Winchester.  At the tender age of six months he came to live with John, Mary and Dean -- every memory since is filled with love.  So when Sam calls Dean's phone and someone answers claiming to be an emergency room nurse, his heart goes cold and falls into the pit of his stomach.

"I - I'm sorry, what did you say?" Sam stammers.  "Ok, um, wait ... this is my brother Dean's phone -- are you saying that he's -- uh, six foot with dark blonde hair?  He -- uh -- he ha-had a leather jacket on ... uh, I think an AC/DC shirt ... oh my God ... I -- yeah, yeah ... where?  Memorial ... huh?  Oh, uh, Sam ... Sam Winchester ... is my brother going to be ok?"

Sam hears the woman begin the standard "They're doing everything possible --" and hangs up.  Rude, perhaps but right now he needs the one person he knows will bring order to the chaos of his mind -- his mom.  Mary's voice has always been a balm to his soul since she sang him to sleep the first night.  Sam folds to his knees and manages to croak out a request to his smart speaker.  Dean is hurt.  His brother is  _hurt_.  Not even the surprise announcement that Dean was pregnant felt like this.

"You just left here, Sam ... what did you forget?" 

Mary's voice is, as always, light with a smile.  Sam's mouth twitches despite the situation.  He closes his eyes tightly against threatening tears.

"Sam?  Sam, what's wrong?  Talk to me, baby," Mary pleads softly when the expected snark doesn't immediately come.

"De-Dean ... he's at Memorial ... there was an accident ..." Sam replies hoarsely.  "Mom, he -- it sounds bad."

"Take a deep breath, sweetheart.  He's alive and we'll just start there -- anything else is just guessing at this point.  You come here and pick us up; I'll call your father to meet us at the hospital," Mary says firmly.

It's then that Sam realizes he can hear a soft wailing in the background.  His heart cracks.

"Mom, is that Jack?"

Mary pauses.  "Yes ... he started crying about a half-hour ago and I couldn't calm him down.  Now I know why."

"Mom, that's just a --"

"Samuel Winchester, you can hear the boy as well as I can -- has he  _ever_ sounded like that before?"

Sam swallows his protest.  He's heard his nephew in tears before but those were never like this -- not even when he had a mammoth ear infection last year.  The sound of the boy's grief now is more ... desolate.  Omega parents supposedly have a bond that connects them to their offspring in a way no other parent does but Sam's never really believed that until right this minute.  He blows out a shaky breath.

"Ok ... I'm getting my keys and I'll be over in about 15, mom."

"Drive safe, Sam ... I don't need both my boys in the hospital."

Sam nods even though she can't see him.  "I know, Mom ... I know."

* * *

"Someone give me a sit-rep  _now_ ," John Winchester barks as he stalks into the ICU waiting room.  

Bobby Singer, John's closest friend and honorary uncle to Sam and Dean, glares at him from his seat.  "Shut up and sit down, you idjit before you wake the pup," he hisses.

John frowns until Bobby jerks his chin over to where Sam slouches in a chair, Jack sprawled across his broad chest.  The little boy with the unruly mop of dark hair has his ear pressed over Sam's heart.  His chubby hand clenches and unclenches in his sleep.  Sam supports his nephew's jean-clad bottom in one hand.  Like Dean, Sam is an Omega so his scent is naturally calming and familiar.  Still, Jack's freckled nose wrinkles up and he squirms restlessly for a minute before he eases back into sleep.  The entire room breathes silently in relief and John cups a hand sheepishly on the back of his neck.

"Sorry," John whispers.  

He walks over and tenderly trails fingertips over his grandson's dark hair.  John had been less than thrilled when Dean had returned home pregnant sans Alpha.  He'd taken a bat to a fence post and battered it into splinters just to keep himself from saying something he would regret.  When he'd walked back into house, he'd hugged Dean and told him that they would help him as much as they could and did they need to bury an Alpha.  The tears that had followed had washed all the shame from Dean and John would always be grateful he kept his tongue for once.  He chucks Sam's jaw gently.

"Where's your mother?"

"She went to talk to the nurse and see if we can get an update.  He's still in surgery," Sam murmurs.

John sinks down beside Bobby.  "Bobby ... damn it what happened?"

The older man shrugs.  "From what the state cop said, some moron was going too fast and spun out.  He clipped Dean and sent him off into the guardrail -- the trucker that hit him never had a chance to stop.  He's downstairs in the main lobby -- feels awful about it."

"What about --"

Sam grumbles.  "Walked away without a scratch.  Bastard."

Jack whimpers and lifts his head up.  Sam, chastened, softly shushes his nephew and presses a kiss to his temple.  Jack, however, spots John and immediately lunges for him.  "Ging-ging!"

John tugs the pup into his lap and holds him close.  "Hey, little man." 

The pup instantly nuzzles against John's neck, scenting.  He's an Alpha and a relative so Jack's instincts are screaming at him to cling.  And he does, softly whimpering and fussing.  John stands and begins to walk the room, humming a mindless tune.  Bobby chuckles and earns a middle finger behind Jack's back.

"John Winchester, if my baby learns any new curse words or hand gestures, I'm going to thump you," Mary's voice says sternly.

Jack's thumb has found its way into his mouth and he just watches Mary.  His eyes slide shut when Mary smooths down his hair.  Sam stands and stretches.  For a moment, they are simply family.  No one notices the man with dark hair enter the room until he clears his throat.

"Pardon me ... do you -- do you know Dean?"

Heads snap around and eyes zero in on the newcomer.  John hands Jack off to his mate and moves to place himself in front.  Sam does the same, creating a wall protecting the pup.

"We're Dean's family.  And you are --?"

The man eyes them and then says, "My name is Castiel ... Castiel Novak.  I'm ... I helped get Dean out of his car today.  I just wanted --"

"You're a firefighter?" John asks, his shoulders relaxing.  "Why the hell didn't you say so?"

Suddenly the tension bleeds out of the room and Bobby does introductions and handshakes with John and Sam.  Castiel notices Jack and his eyes widen.

"Is that -- is that Dean's son?"

Mary nods.  "Yes ... how did you know?"

Castiel blinks.  "We found a child's car seat during the extraction --- we were all afraid -- I can't tell you what an empty car seat at a wreck can mean to a first responder."

Mary covers her mouth and holds the sleeping baby a little tighter.  "You poor thing -- no, he stays with me during the day while Dean is at work."

"Thank God for that," Castiel replies.

At that moment, the door opens.  The doctor is still wearing scrubs and pulls off her hair cap as she enters with a neutral nod to everyone.

"Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, I'm Dr. Barnes and I led the team that just worked on your son.  Dean came through the surgery as well as can be expected.  The left side of his body sustained the worst damage -- broken ribs, arm, pelvis and femur.  Right now the biggest danger is infection from all the appliances we had to use to immobilize his skeletal structures.  Each day he'll be under strict surveillance and any visitors will have a strict infection protoccol to follow since his immune system is going to be working overtime to protect him,"  She runs a hand over her face, exhausted.  "Dean is young and strong.  He's given birth so his immune system is already stronger than it would have been otherwise.  I'm very optimistic but I want you to know what we're facing."

After the doctor leaves, Mary sends Jack home with Sam and John.  Bobby leaves too, promising to come the next day.  Castiel moves to leave too but Mary calls him back.

"Castiel ... wait.  Do you want to see Dean when he wakes up?"

The blue eyes widen but then shutter.  "No, he should see family first, Mary but thank you --"

"You're more family than you want to admit, aren't you?  Or did I completely imagine that my grandson has your eyes and that wonderful shock of hair?"

Her voice is innocently calm but Castiel can see sparks flashing in the light hazel eyes looking directly at him.  He now knows what a deer feels like with a car bearing down on it.  Castiel sinks into a chair.  He swallows hard but the bands around his chest don't ease.  The Alpha rests his elbows on his knees and slumps.  

"You - you know?"

"Not until just now -- Dean's never told us anything about Jack's sire."

Castiel ears darken but he doesn't look up.  "I didn't know -- I didn't know about Jack."

"It would have been hard to notify you since you left without a note," Mary says flatly.

Castiel looks up then.  "I -- my family would  _not_ have accepted Dean.  Not then."  He runs a hand over his face.  "Probably not now either."

Mary purses her lips.  "No fraternizing with the help?"

"Something like that," Castiel exhales softly.  "Mary, you _have_ to believe me -- I did  _not_ know that Dean was pregnant.  When I saw him today, I was caught off-guard."

A warm hand rests on his arm.  "Castiel, you saved Dean's life today.  I'll always be grateful to you for that but he's just getting his life together again after Jack came along.  An Alpha that isn't going to stay around is not something he needs."

"But if Jack is my son --"

"You saw how much he is loved and cherished.  That's not going to change -- you can go on with your life and forget --"

It's Castiel's turn to shoot sparks.  " _Forget_?  He's my pup!  I can't just forget!  Dean had no right to keep him from me!"  He stands.  "I didn't -- I would have done what was right.  I would have."

Mary's eyes narrow.  "What was  _right_?  So you would have mated him?  Claimed the pup as your own?"

Castiel groans.  "I couldn't have done  _that_ ... I mean I would have supported --"

Mary takes a deep, breath and forces herself to calm.  Alpha tempers are quick at the best of times.  Under stress, an Alpha can fly into a full-blown Rage with the slightest provocation.  She exhales slowly and walks away from Castiel to the other side of the room before coming back.  She sits down and motions Castiel back to his chair.  The younger man drops into the seat tiredly.

"I'm sorry ... it's not my place to tell you what to do in this situation," Mary apologizes.  "But that little boy is  _everything_ to Dean -- regardless of whatever went on between you two, Jack is the result and he's what matters here.  Please don't take him away."

Castiel's eyes widen.  "I would  _never_ ... oh my God -- I would  _never_ do that to Dean!"  He chuckles ruefully.  "Oh what a clusterfuck this is."

"Language," Mary murmurs absently.  "But yes ... it  _is_ a clusterfuck."

They laugh sadly before Mary turns to Castiel.  "I know my mate -- John isn't going to take this well.  So we won't tell him.  When Dean is stronger, you two can decide what you're going to do."

Castiel regards her steadily.  "What if Dean --"

Mary shakes her head.  "My boy is a Winchester through and through, Castiel.  We don't go down without a fight."  She spears the young Alpha with her gaze.  "Remember that."


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel peers up at the night sky briefly before pulling his hoodie up and trudging to his truck in the parking lot.  Only random flakes are falling but the clouds overhead form a solid blanket reflecting the city lights back at the world below.  If he's any judge of things, they'll have more accumulation as the night goes on and tomorrow will see an entire new spate of accidents like Dean's.  Castiel has never been more grateful to begin a 72-hour off.  His boots crunch with each step until he reaches the large black dually truck.  It's dusted with snow that drifts off in the light wind. 

Castiel climbs into the cab and starts the engine.  He stares out the windshield as the wipers slowly swipe back and forth intermittently.  It's snowing now but the Alpha's memory replaces it with rain.  Rain that pattered against windows in a soothing background to the soft - and not-so-soft - sounds they'd made that last night together.

Dean was so easy to be with, Castiel recalls.  Alpha attraction to an Omega aside, Castiel had been astonished to find someone who knew so much about … _everything_.  Dean didn't look like a typical scholar in his jeans and band tees but their first night had been nothing but _talking_.  The conversation had ebbed and flowed along without effort until the sky had lightened and Castiel had leaned in with a questioning expression.  Dean gave him that fucking crooked smile of his and Castiel was gone.  Seven months and one shared heat later, Castiel had known that he was worse than gone -- he was never coming  _back_. 

Castiel lets his forehead rest against the steering wheel.  It had still been dark when the rain stopped and Castiel made his decision.  Dean had been dead to the world, starfished across the bed on his stomach.  As if it had only been moments ago and not three years, Castiel sees the broad, warm expanse of skin so invitingly close.  Temptation had nearly caught him as his fingers twitched with the desire to slide along Dean's spine, to trace the gentle dip and swell to a delectable backside hidden by a gray sheet.   

Castiel still doesn't know where he found the sheer will to grab up his duffle and softly sneak out of Dean's apartment.  At the time he'd believed it was courage to leave behind the blue-collar Omega and return to his pedigreed life.  After all, he'd been raised to walk a path of privilege and there were expectations when it came to a Mate.  

With a weak snort of laughter, Castiel feels his eyes sting.  He blinks rapidly and exhales with a shudder.  _That_ Castiel was long gone, had been on the way out the minute he'd met Dean.  Leaving the Omega behind had simply been the final farewell.  He wipes his eyes and idly wonders what his mother would think of his pup, Jack.

Jack.  His son.  That was going to take some getting used to --

A sharp rap on the truck window sends his heart crawling into his throat with a less-than-manly squeak.  Castiel turns to see probably the last person he wants to see right now standing on the runner board and peering at him through the frosted window.  He lowers the window.

"Hello, Gabriel," Castiel mutters.

"Hel- you got some nerve, little brother," the other man growls.  "Balthazar thought you'd put your Tonka toy into a guardrail or something … ever heard of fucking _calling_ if you're gonna be late for dinner?!?"

Castiel rolls his eyes.  "I'm hardly late for dinner, Gabe, it's barely seven."

"Uh, yeah, you might wanna see about an eye appointment, Cassie -- you missed seven by a fucking mile," Gabriel snaps.

Castiel's eyes dart to the dashboard and widen when he sees

_**10:48 PM** _

glowing back at him.  How the hell had he managed to sit here for nearly  _three hours_?

"Castiel?  You ok, kid?"

Castiel opens his mouth and then closes it.  His back and ass are telling him just how not happy they are about things right now and he shifts uncomfortably.  He opens his mouth again and what falls out he blames on the bone-deep exhaustion of the day in general.

"I've got a son named Jack."

To his credit, Gabriel doesn't do anything other than open the door and reach past Castiel to shut off the engine and take the keys after putting up the window.  Castiel watches in a daze and doesn't fight his brother when he's tugged out of the cab back into the snow -- another half-inch has fallen since he zoned out.  They crunch over to Gabriel's day-glo orange 4runner and Castiel slips into the passenger seat with no resistance.  

When they get home, Castiel is bundled off to take a shower and then bed.  Gabriel brings him heavily buttered toast and fragrant jasmine tea; a trusted home remedy during times of stress, it breaks through Castiel's numbness.  He's mid-sip when he realizes Gabe and his half-brother, Balthazar, are watching him worriedly from posts on either side of the bed.  The tears start and suddenly Castiel can't stop them.

* * *

Sam looks up when he hears the floorboard just outside the nursery creak. He gives his mother a wan smile. Mary’s fingertips twine through his hair and out again as she glides past to Jack’s bedside. An amber night light in the shape of a bunny glows softly on the nightstand. Mary _tsks_ at her grandson. 

“I swear, the bed could be as big as this room and he’d find a way to fill it up,” she murmurs. 

Sam chuckles but there’s no mirth in the sound. “Just like Dad ... a-and D-Dean.”

Mary turns from straightening bed clothes to see her son in tears. Outwardly, he’s six-foot-four and twenty-three but Sam’s misery wipes all the intervening years away to leave him as young and vulnerable as his sleeping nephew. With the deftness of a mother who has raised two sons to adulthood and become a protective grandmother, Mary tucks Jack back under covers and presses a soft kiss against his forehead. She tugs Sam to his feet and steers him down the hall to the kitchen. 

The _vacans tremoribus_ have started by the time Sam drops into one of the well-worn chairs and lets his head fall onto crossed arms. Mary’s hand slides under Sam’s too-long hair and presses gently against his nape. The pressure point there instantly renders Sam immobile but since Mary is a Beta and his mother, the young Omega feels soothed not dominated.  She holds him still until Sam’s body catches up with his emotions. His breathing hitches with sobs but eventually they fade and Mary releases Sam. He sits up and wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his Henley.

“Sorry,” he sniffs.

Sam thinks he should have expected the smack to the head.

”Samuel William Winchester, you know better than that — your brother is in the hospital. I’m surprised you didn’t drop before now,” Mary snaps as she moves away to start making cinnamon milk.

Sam frowns at the table, his hands now tight fists clenched before him. Mary glances over and shakes her head sadly while the milk warms.

”Sam, you know it’s—”

Sam slumps back and crosses his arms over his chest. His frown deepens but he says nothing. Mary sprinkles in the cinnamon and sugar as she stirs.  Sam struggles daily with a condition he can no more control than he could control the weather. He also deeply resents it.

The room is silent as Mary gets two mugs out and pours the milk into each.  She sets one in front of Sam and sits beside him. Her smaller hand presses warmly down on his large one.  After a moment, Sam takes his mug in both hands and blinks back tears. 

“I hate this,” he says brokenly. 

“I know you do, baby. I hate it for you but ... oh, forgive me for this, Sam ... but you came to us because of it in the beginning. How can I ever regret that?” Mary asks, her palm pressed against Sam’s cheek.

”It’s just so h-hard,” Sam whimpers. 

“Of course it is, honey. You were in full bond crisis the day we met you,” Mary reminds him. “And then you scented Dean on me.”

Sam drinks a little milk. “I never asked how you knew I was picking up Dean and not you or dad.”

Mary smiles. “Because you have always been methodical, Sam. You screamed when I picked you up but I’d had Dean in my arms minutes before ... you got that cute little frown of yours -“

”Mooommm ....”

”— and when John came into the bonding suite with Dean you were sniffing them both to beat the band. Dean smiled at you and you stopped screaming. I knew you belonged to us right then.”

Sam, naturally, remembers none of this but the aftermath brought him his family and chronic Omega Drop Syndrome (ODS). The condition leaves Sam prone to severe emotional and physical collapses that can be life-threatening if left unchecked.  Meds help but Sam is forever going to need an anchor.  That’s been Dean or his parents, mostly Dean, his whole life. Even when Dean left home, he was faithful with letters and calls.  And the odd mixtape even though Sam tried to tell him no one actually uses cassettes anymore. He smiles at the memory of his brother’s affronted face that day. He blows out a breath.

”Dean’s gonna pull something when he sees the shape Baby’s in,” Sam comments.

Mary allows Sam to change the topic - her pup has never liked to dwell on what he considers a weakness.  She sighs and nods. 

“Bobby’ll make a start on her while Dean is healing. She’ll be a good project for Jack to help his daddy with,” Mary states. “ Now, get to bed. We have to leave for the hospital early.”

”Mom, if Dean —“  Sam begins.

”Baby, I love you but do not finish that sentence,” she warns.  Mary tilts Sam’s chin up till he meets her eyes.  “People told us bringing an ODS baby home was a fool’s errand. They said you were going to be emotionally and mentally stunted.” She chuckles.  “Instead, you shot up like a weed in sunshine and are about to go to Stanford.  Winchesters are tough and stubborn and by God we know your brother got double helpings of both!”

Sam gives a watery laugh and nods. He kisses his mother good night and dreams of laughing green eyes and the scent of cedar - Dean’s scent - and everything is ok for the moment. 


	4. Chapter 4

_Ow._

Pain, sharp and unrelenting, greets Dean as he struggles towards consciousness. Hazy images flit around in his brain like panicked birds trapped in a room. They slam into invisible walls, unable to escape and coalesce into something meaningful. Dean feels _wrong_ but the exact reason _why_ eludes him and that’s starting to piss him off. He forces himself to try and figure out what has his stomach clenching the way it does whenever Jack is upset …

**_JACK!_ **

At the sudden thought of his son, Dean surges into wakefulness. The chaos that follows is common for patients coming out of medically induced unconsciousness. This does not provide much comfort to the one member of his family that witnesses it. 

* * *

Sam arches his spine over the back of the chair he’s been slouched in for almost an hour. He stretches his legs out while his neck bends gracefully to follow the long line of his arms and hands like a diver launching himself backwards into the void. 

The jaw-cracking yawn disrupts his mental image a little but Sam sighs gratefully when he feels a series of pops between his shoulder blades. Muscles relax and Sam stands to slowly twist at the waist and the press his hands into his lower back. He’s an avid practitioner of yoga so it’s no great hardship to work the kinks out, thank heavens. 

“Dude, whoever designed these chairs must’ve been a fan of the Inquisition,” Sam complains.

He shivers in the cool silence that surrounds them except for the click and hum of machines keeping his brother breathing.  Sam runs his hand through hair Dean insists is too long and moves to stand closer to his brother. 

Sam has no memories of his biological parents but his entire life is suffused with images and sensations associated with Dean. Oh, they’ve knocked heads a few times but the anger never lasts. Dean’s scent is still the one thing that Sam craves during a drop. It’s the thing he most wants right now but Dean’s warm cedar smell is lost amid the bitter reek of illness and chemicals. Gently, Sam runs long fingers over the metal frames bolted into Dean’s arm and leg, holding him immobilized until he emerges from this deep state of unconsciousness. In Sam’s memories Dean is always loud and bright … full of life. Now he can barely make out his brother’s face beneath all the swelling and bruising. 

Lost in his musings, Sam doesn’t immediately notice the uptick of the heart rate monitor. It’s been a constant sound, weak but steady since Dean came out of surgery.  Sam’s fingers twine around Dean’s good hand.

“Jack misses you, big brother.  _I_ miss you.  Had a - had another drop the other day.  Wasn’t too bad but you weren’t there -- it’s always better when you’re there,” Sam says.  His thumb rubs gently across Dean’s knuckles. “We met the firefighter that pulled you out … Castiel?  Whatever sort of name that is … he looked pretty worried about you. Bet you fluttered those greens and he went all protective Alpha, huh?  Only you could pick up a date in the middle of a --”

Pain, sudden and sharp, flares up Sam’s arm jerking a startled yelp out of the Omega. Dean’s grip loosens just enough for Sam to pull his digits free amid the sudden frantic alarms echoing around him. Sam moves to the door and bellows, “Help! I need help here!”

He returns to Dean and bends over the spasming figure. For patient safety reasons, Dean’s limbs and head are held immobile by straps. Choked gurgles escape the elder Winchester as he fights the intubation. Hands on either side of Dean’s head, Sam meets his brother’s eyes and smiles. Easing his forehead down to meet Dean’s, Sam inhales and starts to purr. 

The sound is uneven as Sam moves with Dean’s struggles but gradually it becomes steadier as his brother stops fighting. Nurses bustle around him and then a firm hand lands on his shoulder. Dr. Barnes nods at him. 

“Well done, Sam. Let us do our job now.”

Sam looks into Dean’s eyes and sees desperation there. He shakes his head. 

“I’m not leaving him.”

Dr. Barnes smiles kindly. “No one said you had to but I need to remove the tube now that Dean’s conscious. You can stay in the room but out of our way.”

Sam nods and brushes a kiss over Dean’s forehead. “I’ll be right here, big brother.”

Dean seems to deflate into the bedding. Sam squeezes Dean’s good hand and steps away.

* * *

Dean whines when Sam releases his hand. He’s been big brother since Sammy came to live with them but, in truth, the big girl means as much to Dean as anyone on the planet. Right up there with Jack. Despite his chronic drops, Sam is fearless when it comes to going after what he wants and Dean’s never been prouder of the kid. He’s also, whether or not Sam realizes it, the fiercest Winchester when family is on the line. Right now Dean needs that strength because he can’t move and it’s terrifying. 

Faces he doesn’t know swim in and out of his line of sight. Voices overlap and the incessant peak of an electronic alarm is about to send Dean into a psychotic break. Something tugs at his skin, pulling at it until it reluctantly breaks free followed by the most horrific sensation Dean’s ever had — something sliding up his throat. Irrational terror washes over him as he watches a tube that never seems to end slowly exit his body. Just at the foot of the bed Dean sees Sammy. He’s got a pained expression on his face but it’s not fear or concern.  No, Dean realizes it’s because because the little cuss is trying not to _laugh_. When he notices Dean watching, Sam crooks his fingers and covers his face with one gigantic paw before doubling over in laughter. 

The medical staff stare at him like maybe he needs a psych consult but then Dean lifts his one good hand as far as the restraints will allow and shoots his sadistic little brother the bird. He never, _ever_ should have watched that damn _Alien_ movie with Sammy. How the hell is a guy _not_ supposed to scream when something comes crawling out of a dude’s chest, Dean would like to know?

Dr. Barnes is mostly unamused but she doesn’t comment since her patient’s vitals have stabilized and Dean is breathing on his own without even realizing it. She waves the remainder of the staff out and sets about seeing where her patient is cognitive wise. 

“Mr. Winchester, welcome back. Do you know where you are?”

“...hospital..” Dean croaks. 

“Good. Do you know how you got here?”

“...truck...Baby...my Baby..”

The doctor frowns. “Your son wasn’t —“

“He means his car, Dr. Barnes,” Sam interjects with a chuckle. “He named the car Baby.”

“I see. Well, you have that American made steel to thank for most of your injuries and also for your survival,” she comments. “I won’t pull punches, Dean. You’ve got a long road ahead but I can already tell you have an incredible support system in place to see you through. Get some rest. We’ll talk next steps when you’re a little bit stronger.”  She turns to Sam. “Call your family but I want Dean to sleep tonight. Plenty of visitation time tomorrow.”

Sam nods and watches the doctor leave before turning back to his brother. Their fingers link easily and Dean has never been so glad to see his baby brother smiling down at him in his life.

“Jerk.”

“...bitch..”


End file.
